“Interesting….” A single word escaped the void of space. A Godly Word, for it quickly spread through the Myriad Realms and embedded itself upon the subconscious of all the beings that were just going about their day or night. They had no clue that they’d just heard the nonsensical thought of a God….

The faces of Saints and Sinners across all the Worlds changed. All of them spurted out a mouthful of blood, damages of –5B and more showing up on their HP bars.

Even some slumbering Gods woke up, eyes peering through space and time.

A few Inheritance Grounds that never existed in Wyatt’s past life… opened their doors today.

. . . . . . . . .

｢Combinatory Runeword generation success. You have created a new Combinatory Runeword, Liquid Primal Fire. +20 Reputation with the Old Gods. You have been granted the Affiliations function.｣

｢Liquid Primal Fire: A new Runeword created by a promising non-Magus Mage by combining two Runewords, Primal Fire and Condense. May be used as a skill or as a Runeword character in a Runeword Combination.｣

｢Liquid Primal Fire (Mage Skill)
[Effect]: Create liquified Primal Fire that corrodes anything it touches. Deals 120% Magic DMG per second as long as in touch with a target.
[Cost]: 150 MP and 1,000 Stamina.
[Cooldown]: None.
[Maximum Amplification]: Fivefold, with 10 times the cost.
[Mastery]: Not applicable.
[Note]: The Runeword does not differentiate between friend and foe and will only stay harmless to the User for now. User is advised to suspend the Primal Fire drop with Mind Power upon condensation.｣

Well, fuck.

He knew he was special, but not THIS special. The Old Gods were dead and gone! To have Reputation with them at all meant that they’d noticed him from across the space-time continuum! And all positive Reputation, too! Wyatt’s mind quickly went through the hundreds of different things that he could exploit with these Reputation Points: students of the Old Gods, Guardians, Inheritances… a whole slew of scenarios that he could, theoretically, hog like the greedy devil he was!

If only they knew… ho, ho, ho….

As Wyatt read on, the excitement on his face turned to ecstasy, then… it looked like an orgasm. Yikes.

Who would blame him, though? Getting a prohibitively powerful skill—and a Runeword that could even simplify his Hazarding process with other Runeword Combinations, purely because it was one character instead of… well, the three Runewords that were supposed to be separated—any of these things would be enough for a Mage in the mid-game to cream their pants!

Another thing that he was very, very, very happy about was that, well, he didn’t need to perfect his skill at all! See that Mastery part of the skill? Hehe, normal Mages would have to constantly practice their Runeword Combinations, not just casting them over and over again, no, no. They even had to change the way they distributed the various Runeword characters, making this one a bit bigger, that one tinier. He? He wouldn’t sit with those plebs from now on. He had a perfected skill right off the bat! Perhaps, if he could combine more….

Wyatt’s body shuddered at the thought, but he quickly shook his head. There were already too many questions he had yet to answer, too many things he needed to experiment with. If he went headlong into that pit and some nuclear-level explosion happened in his Mind Space, he wouldn’t even know how to cry. Quite literally, too, because he’d likely go into a coma and make it to the Galactic Daily as the first person to fall to the War of Gods’s evil wiles.

His mind quickly settling, the Mage picked himself up and exited the Village through the gates carved of Dark Wood.

His goal: the wolves!

Wyatt didn’t think he was invincible, but at least he reckoned these things wouldn’t hurt him too much. Sure, there would probably be some Level Suppression, but as long as they weren’t Tier 1 Beasts, hehe, he’d roast!

An invisible film spread out from Wyatt’s mind to the outside world, only coming to a stop 200 meters away from where he stood. His Domain… hmm?

The Domain seemed… different today. Wyatt’s eyes squinted a little. He was startled, shocked, even, when he saw Fire Runic Leylines throwing themselves onto his Domain. For some peculiar reason (was it the Combinatory Rune, or perhaps the strange scene in his Mind Space?) he knew instinctively that he could condense a Fire Domain that would roast his enemies if he so chose.

But….

The Mage’s face twisted into a hideous expression when his mind started screaming danger like it was Judgment Day.

It was a goddamn trap! Definitely a trap! It was like these grandpas of his were openly inviting him to a male brothel! Sure, he could join… but what would be the cost? His one working brain cell told him that the Stamina drain alone would probably skin him alive, not to mention the possible nerve damage. He could look, he could put his hands to work, but hell, if he touched…. Argh!

“This fraudulent game!” Wyatt shouted. Right when he was immersed in his own victimisation, a sudden loud whoosh entered the edge of his Domain.

“Who?” Wyatt turned his head and shot the Primal Fire freshly drawn from his middle finger at the arrow, which quickly melted. There weren’t even ashes left with how hot and fast it was burning.

Wyatt heard a loud “Shit!” from beyond his spherical Domain. It wasn’t his ears that were good, but the assailant that probably hadn’t expected his almost inhuman response.

The Mage didn’t know, but Fat Load—blessed be his naming sense—did. That arrow was a Graded Weapon! He’d been chased halfway through the mountain range by a pack of raging Bronze Dwarves just for that one Bronze Frost Arrow. And now….

Tears streamed down the fatty’s face. Loud wails that sounded like a banshee’s escaped almost supernaturally from his mouth. Why did he have to act cool?! Why did his curiosity lead him to follow that damned guy?! And worse yet, why the fuck did that cocky gay boy shoot out that stream of soul-rending fire?! Oh, his tiny heart!

Wyatt followed the screeches to his target, which turned out to be….

“Hmm?”

His eyebrows raised into a comically round shape. What a sight! Here he was thinking that someone who could aim an arrow so well from so far away must have been some suave young man with a golden mane that’d rival a lion’s, forearms as thick as a wrestler, mouth shaped into such a divine temptation that he’d keel over at the first sight. Oh, how sweet the mind made things out to be.

Face to face with him, on the other hand, stood… laid… some-position’d a hot mess of a spherical thing with elven ears and human features… somewhere near a golden tuft of hair that was quickly becoming a greasy damp mess from tears that seemed to flow upwards. Long—no, big limbs sprouted like drugged mushrooms from that boulder.

It took quite a bit of conviction to believe that such a person could physically exist. All for the simple reason that gravity should have long crushed those massive man boobs into slabs….

“My beloved arrow… sniff… why did you leave me! Take my body… Take my body!” The fatty wailed on. Wyatt seemed to hear a song mixed somewhere in that sad outpouring soul while he was still taking in the magnificent sight. Those tiny strawberry-sized eyes hiccuped along with that throat. Snot streamed down those… caverns, like naturally occurring rivulets flowing from a very impressive grotto.

As his inhuman yet song-like screams escaped his lips, Fat Load darted what he thought was a furtive glance at the big boss that was now crouching in front of him. His slitted eyes lit up a dim light.

“Arrows?” Wyatt finally asked. A quizzical look sat on his face. “What arrows? I haven’t seen any arrows around here.”

Fat Load faltered, but he quickly recovered, still sniffing out some residual snot.

“… Sniff. They were… sniff… wee big… sniff… wee wide… sniff… did you see my arrows?”

Fatty’s hands were contorting into various abnormal shapes, much to Wyatt’s amusement. Normal people would perhaps use their palms to estimate a length, but this guy? He was clearly born for a grander purpose. He… would illustrate such measurements by the thickness—not the length! never the length!—of his forearms!

The Mage struggled to hold back his laugh, continuing, “Oh? So they were wee big, and wee wide. I bet they cost a wee bit too, huh? What say thee, oh, young Ranger?”

“Yes, yes,” Fat Load’s head nodded along with Wyatt’s hand movements. “Now they’re all… sniff… gone. How is my handsome self… sniff… to survive in this cruel world… sniff…”

Wyatt patted his… shoulders, were they? As he looked ahead like a missionary—wait, no, like a visionary on a mission, he pointed to some shapes that had just appeared right ahead.

“No worries,” he said. “The wolves will keep you company. I believe reincarnation”—his eyes looked at Fatty, a cruel smile suddenly painting his face—“is the best course for trying to shoot me down.”

｢Earthen Wolf (Level 5, Mutant Beast)
[HP]: 2,000/2,000｣

Fatty’s cry halted.

“Shit,” he mumbled. His eyes glazed over a little. He felt a killing intent that made his whole mass shudder. He was messing with the wrong person! No! He wasn’t! He was just trying to draw attention! How did it come to this?! Quickly grabbing onto Wyatt’s arms, he wailed, “Boss… no, Daddy… no, Grandpa… Ancestor… please… I was just trying to feel you out… I mean, trying to get your attention!”

“And how’s that going?” Wyatt asked, his voice monotonous and uncaring.

“I…” Fat Load gulped, his eyes darting between the two Earthen Wolves and Wyatt’s indifferent face.

He knew… he was in big shit.

His mind whirled at top speed before he came to an answer.

His eyes turned almost golden with a heroic shade. His mushrooms… his hands took out two weird-looking arrows, probably bent because he accidentally sat on them. Then, pointing them to his throat, he said with resignation.

“Sigh, Boss Nox… You don’t know how I admired you and Old Tang. Seeing how valiant your bearing was, how you cheat—I mean convinced!—so many people to pay for a poor Alchemist’s efforts, even though they were just cheap… cough, basic Potions… oh, Boss Nox! Such a sight so warmed the cockles of my tiny beating heart! I thought… I thought… I could perhaps learn… from you and your incomparable manners, your inspirational magnanimity and your unfaltering conviction! But!” Fatty paused, looking at Wyatt’s face that had long stopped moving. Grinning inside, he continued, “I only thought that you would be impressed with me, you know, for my equally handsome manners, my far-sighted… cough, greetings. I never thought you’d take my hellos and pay them back with such a brutal goodbye. If I must go… if you must let me go!… then I shall… plunge these, oh, my beloved arrows… into my heart and—”

“Stop!” Wyatt interrupted. His eyes were twitching nonstop. He suddenly thought that he saw his HP bar lower a little and his brain processing capacity screech to a halt. Holy fuck! Fat and shameless, what more could a handsome fella ask for in a foil?! This! This was his Batman’s Robin!—whatever those are…. “I say, you fellow, how could you bear to waste… no, decorate such good-looking metals on a body so finely shaped?”

Fat Load’s eyes beamed. His head nodded as the Godly Words entered his ears. “Yes, yes, Big Bro. You’re right. I should be more like you and take my arrows to those wolv—”

The Earthen Wolves suddenly moved. A shade of horror painted Fatty’s eyes and a light “Fuck” escaped his mouth. His tiny eyes closed shut, bracing for impact. Over! He was over! He was too far into his own play that he forgot those Earthen Wolves were still there! They just hadn’t made a move because they were watching his acting and waiting for him to relax!

Fatty’s forehead gleaned with sweat while he waited for those fangs to plunge into his beautiful chest. Though… he felt hot out of the blue… huh?

“Open your eyes.” He heard a voice that seemed a bit familiar. “I said open your eyes, you idiot. The wolves are almost dead.”

“Ah?” His eyes opened. He rubbed them a few times. A sight for sore eyes he was seeing. Must be the hallucination of a man on death’s door. He heard often that people would only see what they wanted to see at the end of their lives….

Although—

“AWOOOOOO!”

That. And the heat did feel quite real…. Fatty’s head turned rapidly to the side where Wyatt was standing with a calm smile on his face.

“You are killing them?” asked the hot mess.

Wyatt only rolled his eyes in response. Such a weak-hearted sidekick, tsk.

He was busy admiring the fast-draining HP bars of those two wolves that were thrashing at the weeds in front of him.

Lines of –180, –170, –175… appeared atop their heads.

Wyatt felt quite satisfied with his Liquid Primal Fire, a mouthful though the name might be. A little over 10 seconds after they’d made the first lunge, the two wolves stopped howling, their bodies charred and smelling quite fragrant.

｢Killed 2 Earthen Wolves. Normal EXP +150. Bonus EXP +300. Current EXP: Level 1, 950/2,000.｣

Wyatt, in the meantime, had also recalled the characteristics of this pack of wolves. He’d quite dreaded the idea of going against beasts that hunted in groups such as these, but if they were Earthen Wolves….

“Fatty, keep watch for a bit. I need to do something,” he said. The Ranger nodded weakly, wondering what shenanigan this guy was up to.

Wyatt closed his eyes and sat down, his hands drawing Runewords in rapid order. This time, he was trying out the Wood element, hoping to turn it into Primal Wood.

Fatty felt his body go weak while rampaging Ambient Mana that he couldn’t see was being drained from the environment. The invisible torrents were attracted towards the weird green light that Wyatt was sketching. Uncomfortable, Fatty quickly fled the scene to keep watch from a safe distance.

Minutes passed with a bored fatty eating his own boogers. Feeling listless, the guy picked himself up to go on patrol. A big sphere thus hopped between tree branches and swerved left, right, left, right, making a full circle and then another, then one more….

The scene was picture perfect, though Wyatt, with his Domain still spread out, didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, only silently pressing the Camera button. After ten cycles with no beasts sighted, a red-faced fatty sat down with a huff. The unfortunate branch that was being graced with his butt… snapped, plunging a Fat Load face first into the weeds below.

In the clearing where Wyatt was still peacefully seated, Ambient Mana quickly superimposed the Primal Runeword on top of what his index finger was tracing. The first time around took about 30 seconds, mainly because Wyatt had never drawn a Runeword related to Wood in his life.

Once the picture was complete, the new Rune turned into a sap-like substance that smelled rather delicious. Quickly confirming that it was what he believed it to be, Wyatt put the liquid in his mouth and gulped it down. A greenish light… and a comfortable moan escaped his body. He wanted not to, but at least his body was honest….

｢Primal Wood ingested. +0 HP. +500 Stamina.｣

His HP bar was full to begin with, but Wyatt was still quite satisfied that he didn’t lose Stamina by drawing the Runeword, since the gain and loss balanced each other out. He quickly got back to work, repeating the same process so that the dim Primal overlay in his Mind Space could turn permanent.

A few minutes passed before Wyatt felt a quake in his head. It was rather uncomfortable, sort of like the dull headache that was still plaguing him intermittently. Still, his face wore a look of contentment, mostly because… ahem, not going to lie, it was too comfortable.

When the Mage opened his eyes, he saw bright green Wood-type Runic Leylines becoming clearer and clearer. They were twisted together with the red Lines of Laws like little helices that stretched far into the horizon.

He smiled a little smugly, no longer surprised at such a miraculous sight. Although, it did hurt his brain a little when he looked at too many of these DNA-like shapes. It almost felt like looking at a disco ball at that one gay bar he usually… frequented, minus the drugs, of course.

Anyway, the real drug here (huh?) was the Primal Wood that became easier and easier to etch into reality over time. As Wyatt got more comfortable with the process, he also found that it took less and less Stamina, to the point that the tenth cast only drained him of 50 Stamina, one-tenth of the Primal Fire’s cost.

Wyatt quickly got back to work. His Mind Power drew one more Runeword in-between the ring of elemental Runes and the lone Condense on the outer circle. A new Runeword took shape next to the Liquid Primal Fire.